The mystery of life himself
by sea pixie
Summary: This is my fist fanfic so I would appreciate some reviews.  John gets into the mind of Sherlock to try and work out how his best friend died.
1. Chapter 1

ONE

Rain. That's all it has done for the past nine days. Just boring little drops of H2O (two parts hydrogen one part oxygen) deducing, analyzing, thinking. John didn't know how but the silence now was ever more deadly than it ever was. Mrs. Hudson was still around but she never made any effort to start conversation as she knew all too well that John was wound tighter than a coiled spring, waiting to snap. She didn't know what John was capable of (although he hadn't moved since he last his companion, nine days ago). In fact John hadn't spoken to anyone, let alone Mrs. Hudson. He hadn't eaten in nine days, just the occasional glass of water or cup of tea. He couldn't bare opening the fridge, all of Sherlock's experiments were still in there; moldy toes (the putrid smell that had been wafting around the flat for the past nine days). It was nine days since Sherlock's funeral, nine days since John lost his companion, his best friend, nine days ago, nine days, NINE! All of this was rushing round in John's head. "What did the number nine have to do with anything" he thought as he ran his fingers through his hair, readying himself to pull it out at the thought of the number nine.

EUREKA! John flew off of his chair and darted into the kitchen in search of Mrs. Hudson. She flapped over to see what was going on, after all John hadn't really moved for the last week and a bit. "Nine days ago, well the number nine, what does it mean to you?"

"Ermm…" she replied with a rather puzzled look on her face.

"You just don't think quick enough do you" John butted in, "you're nothing like Sherl…"his voice trailed off and a look of despair came over his face.

"Come on dear, don't get all upset" Mrs. Hudson replied sliding her arm onto his shoulder.

"I am not upset" he replied confidently now with a look of excitement on his face, "don't you see the number nine is related to Sherlock!"


	2. Chapter 2

TWO

Just for a change it was bright sunshine outside. After all, John had finally decided to get on with his life even though it meant figuring out how the number nine was related to Sherlock.

"I'm just going down to Barts Mrs. Hudson?" The flat was silent once more but that didn't hinder his pans to go out. In fact this would be the first he had been out in weeks. When he arrived in the lab, there was no-one there but instead of giving up and going home, he went down to the morgue to find Molly fist deep in a dead bodies chest. "Nice" John muttered under his breath. She hadn't looked up but nodded to acknowledge his presence. "Nine" he murmured, "What could it mean?"

"John?" Molly looked up in surprise, "I thought you were just another lab assistant".

"Oh sorry, should have made myself heard, guess my head is clogged up with the thought of the number nine".

"What has the number nine got to do with anything" she replied with a puzzled look upon her face.

"Well nine days after Sherlock's dea…" his voice trailed off, he had been overpowered with emotion after promising himself he wouldn't.

"John, it's okay".

"No, I am fine" he protested as he took a step back with an astonishing look of shock on his face, not realizing the power in his voice. "Well anyway, I have come to the conclusion that the number nine is somehow related to Sherlock".

"John, don't you see, the answer has been staring you in the face the whole time, the number nine isn't even, it's odd and it isn't prime, it's perfect!"

"Two words that perfectly describe Sherlock", but this still didn't explain Sherlock's death as john thought, later that evening when he found Sherlock's harpoon propped against the oven.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE

It was a bleak Sunday afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky but frost littered the ground. It had been three weeks but John still couldn't figure out Sherlock's death. Thoughts were rushing around his head, "why did he tell me to leave the hospital, what did molly have to do with anything, was Moriaty really dead, was Sherlock really a fraud?"He continued pacing up and down the room when there was a knock on the door. "Mrs. Hudson, will you get that?"

"I'm your land lady not your servant but yes I will get the door". Mrs. Hudson went down stairs to get the door but before she had even opened it, she heard a muffled voice from outside.

"Mrs. Hudson, do not look at my face, no-one can know who I am, I am just here to visit Dr Watson, no-one else."

Mrs. Hudson was quite frightened but she did as she was told and let the stranger in. He wandered up the stairs trailing his coat behind him. He got to the top of the stairs and peaked his head around the door so he could watch John intently. John was pacing up and down, occasionally stopping to write. After nine minutes of watching him, the stranger ventured into the room.

"Surprise" the stranger shouted.

John didn't turn around he just replied "Lestrade, piss off, I'm trying to work out how to get to my mind palace".

"I told you that would come in handy"

John turned around to see if it actually was Lestrade.

"Good to see you, John".

"What, ehh, how?"

"John Mrs. Hudson doesn't know it's me so don't talk to loud".

"Sherlock, you bastard", John punched Sherlock's face, then took a step back to take in what he had just down.

"Now John, that's no way to treat guests" Sherlock murmured due to the amount of blood pouring from his nose.

"You are meant to be dead" John muttered as he stropped off into the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's took me so long to get this chapter uploaded, i hit writers block so it was kinda hard to write, hope you like it, reviews would be awesome!**

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><p><span>FOUR<span>

Sherlock spent the night in his old room and to his surprise; it was exactly how he left it. After finally getting himself out of bed, he slumped into the kitchen to get some breakfast.

"Since when did you eat?" John hallowed from the living room.

Sherlock was startled; he hadn't noticed the blonde haired man stood at the window. "Well... Molly's been feeding me, well force feeding me, for the past couple of weeks so I've kind of gotten into the habit".

'Molly' John thought to himself, placing another piece into the grand puzzle. "So that's where you've been?"

"Yes it is but I'm back now just don't tell anyone because remember I am a fugitive and come to think of it, so are you!"

"Actually I'm not" John retorted, "I went to the police after your dea- fall and explained everything but they said because you were a fraud, I was off the hook".

"So thanks are in order then?" Sherlock replied triumphantly.

"Ermm, no, you 'died', left me in a state of shock and now you just show up and act like everything is ok".

"Fair enough but at least I'm back". Sherlock could see John was getting madder and madder, he was about to blow but as John went to punch him, Sherlock ducked out of the way causing John to hit an intriguing but ornate object sending it cascading through the air. SMASH! Tiny little pieces strewn across the floor.

"John, what's happened?" Mrs. Hudson said bursting through the door.

"Oh Shit!" Sherlock muttered.

Mrs. Hudson turned to John. "What, Eh..., How?"

"My sentiments exactly "he replied in a monotonous tone.

"Sherlock, you are meant to be dead".

"Yes, yes, I've had the same lecture off John and I don't need it again. I know you both have questions but first I need you" he directed a finger at Mrs. Hudson, "to go and clear my name".

"And how am I going to do that?"

"Just say how I was a fraud, so how could I have done any of those crimes?" now looking at John he said "And you will stay here with me and I might answer some of your questions".


End file.
